


Sherlock And His Pathologist

by YouCanTurnItOff



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s03e01 The Empty Hearse, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6770287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouCanTurnItOff/pseuds/YouCanTurnItOff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place in the episode "The Empty Hearse" (S03E1). Sherlock finds a way to thank Molly for her help in faking his suicide. A little Sherlock/Molly fluff and of course, the awesomeness of Sherlock! SHXMH JWXMM<br/>*A mini fic*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Return

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Sherlock or any of its characters. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle owns the literary masterpiece and the credit for the amazing BBC TV series goes to Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat.

* * *

 

After a fairly normal day at Bart’s -or as normal as the day of a Morgue Specialist could be- Molly Hooper finally winded up her work and signed off for the night. She hummed the tune of a song which had been stuck in her head since quite a while as she switched off the lights of her lab.

Still humming, she made her way through the eerily empty halls over to her assigned locker to collect her bag so she could head out. One might think that being surrounded by dead bodies all the time might have a bad effect on one's psych but Molly Hooper was used to it. The dead didn't scare her, neither did the dark. Unknowingly, it was one of her strongest points.

But today, for some reason, she felt uneasy. She glanced back over her shoulder before opening the door to her metal locker.

 _Silly me._ She thought.  _There is no one here…_

Her thought process came to a standstill as she opened the metal door and her eyes fell upon the mirror which was embedded inside the locker. She almost dropped her things as the reflection of a very familiar figure came into focus.

"Sherlock." She said breathily as she quickly turned around to face him.

"Hello, Molly. I see you have changed your hairstyle although the previous one suited you better. This one makes your face look a bit long." The corner of his lip pulled up into a small half smile. He looked the same as ever in his long black coat and impeccably tailored suit but at the same time, Molly sensed that something was wrong. Had he lost weight? And were those dark circles beneath his eyes?

"W-when did you get back?" Molly asked him, instantly berating herself for the slight stammer in her voice.

"About a day and few hours ago." He answered almost before she stopped speaking.

"So, you're here…now." She trailed off, not knowing what to say further.

"Brilliant deduction, Molly." Sherlock said as he took a step towards her, “I hope I am not spoiling your plans for tonight?"

"How did you know if I had any plans?" She blinked dumbly as she tucked a loose strand of her hair consciously behind her ear.

"You have freshly renewed your nail polish and there is a drastic change in your hairstyle. In your left pocket are two tickets for a… movie, I might deduce? So you clearly have plans with friends. You have started applying perfume as well, Chanel Number 5, if I am not wrong and your face has subtle hints of makeup so clearly, the person you are going out with is of romantic interest to you. Wasn't that hard to figure out." He winked as he completed his analysis and Molly let out a short, breathless laugh.

"Well, I have missed this." She shyly waved a hand in Sherlock's direction. "And yes, y-you're right, but it's nothing which I can't cancel-"

"Postpone." He said abruptly.

"Sorry?"

"You will not cancel your plans. You will postpone them." He nodded at Molly, who merely felt confused but went with it.

"Okay..." She replied meekly, her voice taking a higher pitch which it often did whenever she was nervous.

"So, I will need a space to stay for the night. Maximum two." He replied as he beckoned Molly to follow him out. "Would it be too much if I stay over at your place tonight? I can't quite risk going back to Baker Street at the moment and apparently John is so pissed off with me that he feels the need to engage in violence every time he glances at me…" Sherlock trailed off, bringing his slender fingered hand up to touch his nose. Molly noticed that it looked a bit swollen.

"It will be no problem!" She obliged a bit too quickly. If Sherlock noticed, which he most certainly did, he did not show it.

"Great. So, shall we?" He held the glass door open and Molly stepped through, mildly surprised. She still couldn't believe that after two long years, Sherlock had decided to pay her a visit at Bart’s.

"Don't think too hard." Sherlock muttered under his breath.

"Huh?" She squeaked.

"Whenever you are thinking intently, you begin to frown." Sherlock stated it casually as he took a look at the over cast London sky. It was drizzling lightly. "Doesn't suit you."

"Right." She nodded as she followed Sherlock's gaze and subtly tried to re arrange her expression. "It's raining."

"You should get an award for stating the obvious all the time." And before Molly could form a coherent response, he stepped into the rain with the collar of his coat turned up against the wind. Molly had no choice but to follow him.

"I suppose we will have to get a taxi." Molly said as she tried to keep up with him. His long strides covered as much distance as two of Molly's scurrying ones and by the time they reached the end of the parking lot, Molly was totally soaked and out of breath.

"Shut up." He suddenly rounded up on Molly, his piercing blue grey eyes boring into her ordinary brown ones.

"But I didn't even say anything!" Molly replied indignantly, rubbing her arms with her hands to maintain some warmth.

"Your teeth are chattering and you’re breathing too loudly. I am not able to think, I need to think!" He snapped at her. It had nearly stopped raining but the strong wind was not making things easier.

"Well its n-not my fault that it's raining-"

"Was."

"Well,  _was_  raining!"

"Here-" Before Molly could get another word out; Sherlock shrugged out of his black outer coat and draped it around Molly's shoulders. "Now, shut up." And with that, he turned around on his heel and hailed a taxi which, luckily for them, was passing by.

She stared at him dumbly as she clutched the coat around her against the strong winds. As she had gotten up this morning to bright sunshine streaming out of her windows, there were two things which she hadn't expected at all. One- The weather turning bad.

Two, Sherlock showing up out of the blue.

"Are you getting in or will you prefer to come in a different taxi?" Sherlock's annoyed voice broke through her thoughts.

"What? No, of course I am coming." She hastily moved towards the taxi, almost slipping twice in her short journey and breathed a sigh of relief when the welcoming warm blast of air streaming in through the taxi's heater hit her face.

"You're nervous. You are fidgeting around in your seat; you are clearly sweating even in a weather like this and your face is redder than usual, which I might deduce, is caused by my presence." The corner of Sherlock's mouth briefly turned up into a small smirk.

"No…i-it's just…" Molly trailed off while she desperately dabbed her forehead with her handkerchief. This isn't how it was supposed to go, she thought. She had been dreaming about Sherlock coming back to London for quite some time now and this was not how it was supposed to go. At all.

"So, why did you think I'd take a different taxi?" She asked him suddenly, totally intent on changing the topic.

"So that you would not be seen with me, obviously." Sherlock answered. He raised his eyebrows like it was the most obvious explanation available.

"And why would I want that?" Molly frowned but quickly straightened her expression lest Sherlock pass another comment on her appearance.

"Human mind works in a complex way. There are numerous reasons why you would not want to be seen with me-"

Molly noticed that the taxi driver was shooting them uneasy glances from the rearview mirror, clearly perplexed by Sherlock's way of speaking.

"I narrowed down to a list of twelve possibilities-"

"I'd just like to hear the most obvious one." Molly cut in quickly, for her sake as well as for the taxi driver's.

"As you wish." Sherlock nodded. "So, as I was saying, the most obvious one being that -"Sherlock took a deep breath "That I am not famous anymore. Not for the right reasons, anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Molly asked him, unable to control her frown this time.

"Think, Molly, think!" He suddenly burst out, his eyes glowing like silver embers. "I faked my own death with your help, escaped the most notorious criminal London has ever seen and "died" as a fake genius in everyone's eyes. I am sure I must have made it to every newspaper's front page for all the wrong reasons." He finished darkly. His expression looked like he had tasted a particularly bitter lemon.

"What? No! I mean…yes, that did happen but you have been cleared of all the false allegations, Sherlock." She finished her sentence in a whisper. "I thought you'd know that."

"I do know." He replied just as quietly.

"And," Molly began with boldness that she never knew existed within her, "I'd never think of you like that. I helped you fake your own death, for god's sake.” She muttered.

"Thank you, Molly. That's a relief to hear." Sherlock nodded as he looked out of the window.

"Glad we cleared that out." She stated simply while the taxi came to a halt in front of her house. When Sherlock made no move to get out, she sighed and paid the taxi driver his fare. Sherlock stepped out, with a faraway look in his eyes.

"Oh, your coat-" Molly started removing it but Sherlock stepped ahead of her and waved his hand in a dismissive manner. He moved ahead of her and went to stand in front of her house, his hand out stretched towards her. "Keys."

"I…how exactly did you know which house was mine?" She asked him, perplexed, as she fished for keys in the pocket of her jeans.

"Pink flower pots on the windows and a cat shaped door knocker. Wasn't hard to figure out." He drawled as he impatiently beckoned to her for the keys.

"Right." She blushed as she handed him the keys. Within seconds, they were inside her house and she just awkwardly stood at the entrance while Sherlock inspected each and every surface like a hawk.

"Pink, pink PINK!" Sherlock bellowed as he thrust a baby pink cushion onto the floor, “How do you manage to live in this place?" He rounded up on her, his eyes wide and unbelieving. "This-this place is full of alarming and abhorrent shades of pink!"

"That's...a bit…"

"Even the carpet is part pink!"

"….offensive."

Sherlock paused in his tracks and Molly was strongly reminded of a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

"Right, I...apologize for my uncharacteristically rude behavior." He cleared his throat "I tend to forget what I am doing without John pointing out the normal aspects of human life to me. So yeah…pink." He cracked a smile which looked as if it took a lot of effort to conjure. "Will do."

Molly bowed her head, unsure of what she should do or say. "So...er…"

"I'll need a room to stay." Sherlock removed his suit’s jacket and Molly barely suppressed a gasp when she saw that inside he was wearing a tightly fitted waist coat over a starched white shirt. For some reason, the sight of Sherlock in well fitted waistcoat and shirt did weird things to her imagination.

"I have a spare bedroom for guests…I guess you can take that." Molly waved her hand in the general direction of the guest room which was adjacent to her own bedroom. Instead, Sherlock brushed past her and opened the door to her own bedroom. Molly followed him nervously as she quickly scanned the room over his shoulder for any signs of things which might...embarrass her in front of Sherlock.

Nope. No sign or stray bras or dirty socks. No tampon packet lying around, either. She heaved a sigh of relief but it was short lived.

"I'll take this room." Sherlock said as his eyes swept over each and every surface of the room.

"What?" Molly squeaked out in a high pitched voice.

"I like the view." He murmured, his lips barely moving as he parted the curtain slightly with his pale, long fingers and peeked out. His fingers…which Molly would love to feel in her hair while they ki-

 _Get a grip on yourself!_  She scolded herself mentally.  _You are engaged to Tom, for heaven's sake!_

"So, do I have your consent to use your room for a day or two?" Sherlock cocked his eyebrow expectantly, waiting for an answer. As much as she tried, she couldn't quite grasp the fact that after two years… _two years_ , she was standing in her house, in  _her_  bedroom with Sherlock Holmes. Her heart was pounding faster than usual in her chest and her movements were fidgety.

"Molly?" Sherlock slightly inclined his head to one side. It was almost too much for Molly, who was already feeling overwhelmed, to hear Sherlock say her name in his deep, velvet smooth baritone.

"Yes, you can do as you please." She mumbled as she hastily turned around and walked out of the room, intent on putting distance between herself and the world’s only Consulting Detective.

 _Tea. I need tea._  She decided as she dumped her bag on top of the sofa. After washing her hands thoroughly and pushing back the sleeves of her shirt, she set water to boil in a tea pot and leaned against the counter top as she tried to slow down her heart rate.

 _I'd never be able to survive these two days if I keep on acting like this…_ She thought. Only Sherlock had the power to make her feel like this. As usual, he was being rude and offensive but somehow, he also appeared charming at the same time. Those quirky little smiles and intense looks hadn't passed Molly's notice. She was well aware of the fact that Sherlock Holmes was a highly manipulative human being and held a …a power over people. However, this knowledge didn't hinder her from helping him out. Or rather, being manipulated into helping him out.

She was jostled out of her thoughts by the shrill whistle of the tea kettle. She quickly turned off the stove and poured the boiling water into a tea pot.

"Two sugars, black with a slice of lemon, thank you."

She almost dropped the boiling water on herself as she heard his voice just behind her. When she turned around, she found herself practically nose to nose with Sherlock.

"I-I didn't hear you come in." She managed to choke out as she stared into Sherlock's  eyes. She swore to god, his eyes were unlike any she had ever seen. They were a unique shade of grey…almost silver with specs of metal grey and blue around the iris.

"They all say that." Sherlock responded as he reached around Molly's waist for something. Her breath caught up in her throat.

"What are you…?” She trailed off.

"Getting the sugar cubes, obviously." He responded. Molly noticed that there was barely any space between their bodies and Sherlock's nose was almost skimming her shoulder as he leaned over her to grab the damned sugar cubes.

_Okay, this is perfectly normal. This is Sherlock, for God’s sake! He probably doesn't even feel attracted to females, let alone you!_

She exhaled loudly as Sherlock stepped away from her after retrieving the cubes. He added two to his tea and one to her own.

"You noticed." Molly replied, resisting the temptation to break into a huge smile. Her jaws hurt from the effort and she turned away from him, letting her hair cover most of her face.

"Of course I did. That's what I do, Molly. I notice things." He replied in a tone which suggested that he thought Molly's intelligence level to be as good as a kindergartener’s.

"Right, yeah." Molly nodded as she added milk to her tea and took a sip, almost scalding her tongue.

"You have some questions." Sherlock replied without even looking at her. Molly noticed how he puckered up his lips to blow air into his steaming hot tea before taking a sip. The simple act created such a suggestive and inappropriate image in her mind that she almost choked onto her tea.

"I do. Why me?"

"Elaborate."

Molly took a deep breath "Why me…I mean, you could have stayed with John-"

"Fight."

"Oh, yes, right. Well, you could have gone to Mrs. Hudson…."

"I am planning to." He replied simply, not choosing to elaborate his statement.

"Okay..." Molly shrugged.

"You're still curious as to why I chose you." Sherlock set his tea cup down onto the kitchen counter and turned to face Molly. His curly black hair cascaded down his forehead and stopped just above his dark eyelashes. He pursed his lips once before he started speaking "I chose to come here because...I wanted to say thank you to you. For all your help."

Molly looked away at that point due to the intensity of Sherlock's gaze. He had the unflinching ability to stare at a person or a thing without blinking for a long stretch of time. It was highly unsettling but that wasn't the only reason why Molly looked away.

"My pleasure." She replied, keeping her eyes fixed on her shoes. What else was she supposed to say?

"Save it." Sherlock muttered. "I am not quite done with thanking you. And oh, did I mention that you will be temporarily providing as a replacement for my skull back at Baker Street?" And with that, Sherlock slipped out of the kitchen, leaving Molly speechless.

 

* * *

 


	2. An Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock in unable to resist the pull of an experiment.

* * *

 

"Your skull." Molly crossed her arms in front of her chest as annoyance let its presence known to her. Now that reality was finally catching up with her, and Molly was beginning to believe that Sherlock was really standing in front of her and that she was not dreaming; she was starting to get a _bit_ annoyed.

"Yes, the one back at Baker Street." Sherlock nodded without even looking at her as he took out his belongings from his bag which Molly hadn't noticed before. "An old friend, if you know what I mean." He muttered under his breath as he took out a suspicious looking container and stood up.

"May I use your refrigerator?" He asked her even as he moved past her and made his way towards the fridge, automatically assuming that he had the permission to do so.

"What for?" Molly stepped in front of Sherlock, effectively blocking his way. For once, she was glad that she didn't stammer or made a fool out of herself and was pleased –and surprised- with the firmness in her voice.

"Experiment." Sherlock said as his eyes locked with Molly's. "Obviously."

"Yes." Molly nodded, refusing to look away. "Right."

"So, let's not waste any more of our time…" Sherlock tried to brush past Molly but she blocked his way again.

_ What am I doing? _ __ She thought to herself as Sherlock frowned down at her. His vividly colored eyes still had the power to pierce right through her soul but somehow, she was starting to feel more confident with her actions. Since Molly had known Sherlock, she had always been the meek, hesitant, mousy looking woman in front of him who he easily dominated and manipulated to get his work done. As far as she remembered, she had always fancied Sherlock. Really fancied him. Until recently, she had taken all his insults, coped with his obstinate personality and had been subjected to harsh words on his side throughout the years.

"Sherlock…I want to say something first." She said quietly as she wrung her hands together in agitation. The fact that he was staring at her without blinking wasn't helping either.

"Yes?" He raised an eyebrow in a perfect arch, silently questioning her about the content of her thoughts.

"I am not the same Molly Hooper which you left behind two years ago." She began, surprised at how strong her voice sounded. "Things have changed. My…feelings have changed." She managed to get out without cringing.

"Feelings." Sherlock sneered uncharacteristically. "A waste of time and energy, if you ask me."

"For you maybe." Molly replied as she stepped out of Sherlock's way. "Not for me." She hoped that Sherlock would understand the hidden meaning behind her words- Molly Hooper was not to be played around with anymore.

Sherlock eyed her curiously, his eyes flitting from one angle of her face to another as if he was trying very hard to read her. She did her best to keep her face expressionless although it was proving to be very tricky as Sherlock continued his analysis on her.

"The fridge is yours, then." She said quickly to break the awkward silence. She turned around to leave the room so that she could gather her thoughts but she inhaled sharply as a warm hand closed around her wrist. She didn't turn around and instead closed her eyes as Sherlock drew her closer to his body until there was almost no space between them and his lips were right at her ear.

"I am failing miserably. This is not how it's supposed to go." He murmured in his gravelly voice, his lips barely grazing the upper portion of her ear. Her skin tingled sensitively and she tried her best not to faint right into his arms.

"What do you want, Sherlock?" She asked him as she still kept her eyes closed and reminded herself to breathe.

"John."

_ Inhale. Exhale…what? _

"Huh?" She whirled around to face him, her eyes growing wide by the second. "Oh….oh! You should have told me earlier that you are…I did have my doubts…"

"What? No, no!" Sherlock ran a hand through his curly black fringes as he let out a frustrated sigh. "Married to my work, remember Molly?"

"Then…?"

"I need John! I need him here, standing by my side, interpreting all this -" He took a deep shuddering breath as he waved a hand in Molly’s direction. "All this…I don't even have a name for "this"!"

"I've lost you, I'm afraid." Molly responded after a short pause. She wondered where thing conversation was going because she could neither grasp the head nor the tail of it.

"Course you have." Sherlock shot her a withering look, "And would you mind getting this cat away from me? It's ruining my shoes."

Molly's eyes widened as she looked dawn and saw that Toby, her male cat, was purring and clawing at Sherlock's trousers.

"I think he likes you." Molly managed to say between a fit of giggles. For some reason, the sight of Sherlock battling with her cat seemed hilarious to her.

"Oh for god's sake-" Toby had started to stretch and roamed around in circles between Sherlock's legs, rubbing it's furry little head against the material of his expensive, finely tailored trousers. Sherlock tried to step away from the cat but he just followed him, purring indignantly in protest.

"Okay Toby, go away now, you're bothering Mr. Sherlock." Molly scolded the cat half heartedly as she was thoroughly enjoying Sherlock squirm around.

"How funny, Molly, as if the cat would under-" Sherlock stopped mid sentence as his eyes followed Toby leaving the room. He slowly turned around to face Molly, clearly impressed.

"You have a great amount of influence on that thing." Sherlock observed as he folded his palms together and placed them under his chin, clearly observing Molly's reaction.

" _Toby_." Molly stressed on the cat's name, "And I suppose I do. Reminds me of something, now that you mention it." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She wanted to smack herself for her statement and she prayed that Sherlock would not notice the hidden meaning behind her words but of course he did. He was Sherlock.

"Molly Hooper, are you somehow trying to tell me something?"

"It would be best if you settle down now, I'll make us some dinner-"

"Just spit it out." Sherlock stated calmly, effectively cutting her off.

"I-I don't want to. Now, if you will excuse me…" This time, Molly brushed past Sherlock and exited the room. She went into the bathroom and splashed cold water onto her face from the tap. It helped her relax a bit and cleared her head.

In the other room, Sherlock paced around in circles with his hands crossed behind his back. After his return to London, he had made a spontaneous decision to visit Molly at Bart’s Hospital. To be honest, he had been a little excited at the prospect of seeing her. During his time away from London, he had missed the city terribly but more than that, he had missed the people which made the city endearing to him. After coming back, he had been almost too confident that John would accept him with open arms but John's anger and his silent treatment had hit him like a huge wave of disappointment. And shock.

Hardly anything ever shocked Sherlock Holmes. He wasn't the world best and only consulting detective for no reason. But John's impending silence was gnawing at his mind day and night. To distract himself, he had decided to pay Molly a visit as he had been sure that at least Molly would be enthusiastic about his return. After all, she was one of the few who knew everything and she had played a central role in his escape from Moriarity. Initially, Molly had been excited. And flustered. And nervous. But Sherlock noticed that as the day progressed, her responses grew more firm and her behavior became more…stable?

This had come as another shock to Sherlock as he was used to a fidgeting, flustering, out of breath Molly. What had changed in these two years?

Finally giving up, Sherlock pulled out his mobile and typed a text.

_ I need to talk to you. Urgently. SH _

He went into his absurdly small contact list and sent the text to John's number. After a few moments, his phone vibrated.

_ Piss off. _

"Fantastic." Sherlock muttered under his breath as he contemplated his next move. He took a deep breath and typed another text.

_ Could be a matter between life and death. SH _

He smirked as he sent this text. He was almost sure that John would come running to him after reading it.

_ I am well aware of your methods, Sherlock. Now stop bothering me. _

Sherlock cursed under his breath as he read John's text. The man was being utterly perplexing and totally impossible to deal with.

As a last resort, Sherlock dialed John's number and waited for him to answer. After five rings, he picked up.

"John, I knew you'd pick up." Sherlock said as relief washed over him.

"Er… it’s Sherlock, right? This is Mary actually." Came a female voice from the other end of the phone.

"Ah, Mary." Sherlock immediately switched back to his formal tone. "I assume John stormed off in a fit of rage after reading my texts and left his phone behind?"

Mary laughed at the other end, "You're right. This man can be a little perplexing at times, if you know what I mean." She whispered, afraid lest John hear her and throw a fit.

"Precisely my thoughts." Sherlock said as a quick smile graced his lips. From what all he had been able to gather about Mary, she seemed perfect for John. The idea of relationship and marriages still made him cringe but if John did want to doom himself into an existence of boring normality and dull lifestyle, then Sherlock thought that Mary would be the perfect for him. Just one thing bothered Sherlock about her…she seemed to be hiding something but he decided that it would have to wait for now. 

"So, would you like me to pass on any message to John on your behalf? I mean, I can't guarantee that he will listen to me without flipping out but…"

"No, thank you." Sherlock said and almost hung up but another thought came into his mind and his eyes grew wide as he fumbled with the phone, "Oh, Mary?" He said, his voice taking an zealous edge.

"Yes?" Mary answered at the other end, surprised by the sudden change in Sherlock's tone.

"I require your help in a certain matter."

"Dear me, Sherlock Holmes requires _my_ help? I am flattered." Mary said as she let out a little laugh.

Sherlock cleared his throat, "How does one say ‘thank you’ to a girl?"

He held the phone away from his ear as Mary unexpectedly broke into a fit of laughter. When her giggles subsided, she said, "Oh Sherlock, no wonder John adores you so much. You're full of surprises!"

"You barely know me." Sherlock responded monotonously.

"Oh I know more than you can think. John never stops about you! If I didn't know him better, I'd assume he was harboring deep rooted feelings for you."

"I am quite sure you're exaggerating." Sherlock responded although this new bit of information brought a smirk to his lips. "Anyway."

"Oh yes, sure I would love to help you. Why do you need to thank this particular woman, if I may ask?" Mary asked him curiously.

"She helped me fake my suicide two years ago. I need to thank her for her help." Sherlock said without missing a beat, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Oh…right." Mary replied a bit uncertainly. "Okay….so, take her out for dinner perhaps? Or a movie?"

"Boring." Sherlock responded immediately as he rolled his eyes. "I personally find it perplexing at how a normal human brain works. Don't you get tired of going on dinner dates and movies over and over again?"

"Sherlock ." Mary said, her voice sounding a bit firmer than before, "Would you care to tell me how many dinner or movie dates you have been to in your entire life?"

"Irrelevant question." Sherlock said, checking the time on his watch.

"If you haven't experienced it yourself, how can you label it as boring?" Mary questioned him, already sounding exasperated. Something about her tone reminded Sherlock of John and he almost smiled.

"I don't need to experience it to know how boring or dull it is." Sherlock scoffed. "I like to utilize my time to do other, more important things."

"Okay…think of it as an experiment, Sherlock."

"An experiment?" His interest piqued as soon as he heard the word. "Go on."

"Yes. Now listen to me very carefully and do as I say…"

o~o~o~o~o

After eating a quite dinner by herself later that night, (Sherlock had stated that he was not hungry when she asked him and had locked himself up in Molly's room after that.)Molly decided to call her fiancé, Tom. She had been ignoring his calls and text messages all day and the weight of her engagement ring seemed to grow heavier and heavier on her finger as the day progressed.

She dialed Tom's number and he instantly picked up "Molly! Where the hell have you been?" His voice sounded gravelly because to the bad connection and Molly winced due to the amount of static present on the line.

"I am so sorry, Tom." She began after taking a deep breath, "I know we were supposed to go out today…"

"And you backed out, as usual." Tom snapped at her from the other end, sounding extremely annoyed. "You could have just given me a call, you know. Could have saved us both the trouble."

"Tom, let me exp-" But before she could utter another word, the line went dead. She stared at the phone in shock as unwanted tears started forming in her eyes.

_ The connection was bad, maybe…maybe he didn't hang up. _ She tried to comfort herself but deep inside, she knew the truth. Tom was furious with her.

She decided to take a shower at that moment. The warm water would help her relax and clear her mind from unwanted thoughts. She wiped a hand under her eyes to get rid of any escaped tears; the last thing she wanted was Sherlock deducing how she spent her past hour due to the state of her eyes.

She collected a fluffy white towel from the cupboard in the spare room and headed towards the bathroom which lay between the guest room and her room. She patted Toby's head as she passed the sofa. The cat had settled into his favorite spot on the cushion of the sofa and purred at Molly when she scratched his head. This sight gave Molly a little initiative to smile and after one last pat, Molly resumed her journey towards the bathroom. She yawned once as she opened the door and stepped inside. Her eyes were growing heavy with tiredness and she was looking forward to a good night’s sleep since she had a busy day ahead of her.

Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks and her eyes flew wide open at the sight in front of her. Her tiredness was long forgotten as she gawked at Sherlock's half naked and dripping wet form. He was standing in front of the bathroom mirror with just a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair were wet and slicked back over his forehead, indicating that he had freshly showered. Their eyes briefly met in the mirror's reflection and Molly instantly looked away as a deep, red blush crept over her face and neck.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry I should have knocked-" She gasped as she squeezed her eyes shut and turned away from him, very intent on bolting out of the bathroom.

"You've been crying." Sherlock's deep and calm voice over ruled her mumbled sentences. "Stop." Sherlock said firmly as Molly started walking away.

Sherlock's slightly wet hand closed around her arm as he turned her around to face him. Her heart hammered in her chest as thousands of possibilities crossed her mind. Weird, inappropriate and highly sexual possibilities.

She almost fainted when Sherlock cupped her face between his hands and made her look up into his eyes. "I told you that you should have postponed your plans." His warm, peppermint scented breath washed over her face. She blinked twice and clutched onto Sherlock's arms as she swayed dangerously. She was starting to feel light headed all of a sudden and even the tips of her ears had grown tomato red in embarrassment.

"I…" Molly's breath caught in her throat as she stared into the two wonderful, multicolored orbs. At a distance, his eyes appeared to be a sparkling grey color but now that she was so close to him, each any every individual color of his iris was visible to her. Around the pupil, his eyes were an alarmingly beautiful shade of green and little specs of metallic blue and silver surrounded it, all blending in perfectly to form a unique color. Sherlock's hands felt very cold against the warm skin of her cheeks, and she still had no idea what she was doing with Sherlock standing in front of her, their faces barely inches apart…

"Swollen eyes, red veins lining the sclera, heavy lids. You clearly need to sleep, even if it's boring." Sherlock mused to himself as he let her face go. Molly looked away and inhaled deeply, trying to settle her nerves.

_ Of course. He was just analyzing my condition, nothing else. Silly me. _ Molly thought with a pang of disappointment. She wasn't supposed to feel this way about him. Not now.

The bathroom's atmosphere was steamy and she couldn't help but throw covert glances in Sherlock's direction. His skin was marble white under the bathroom light and she noticed that his built was slender yet toned, if not exactly muscular. His arms and chest were well toned and displayed honest hard work rather than hours of buffing up at gym.

"You should probably get dressed." Molly choked out as she ran a hand through her hair.

"Why, does my being naked bother you?" Sherlock chuckled throatily as he stepped past Molly. The towel around his waist slid dangerously low and was almost at the verge of falling. "It wouldn't bother me, if you were in my situation." And with that, he turned around and walked away, tightening the towel around his waist just before it slipped down. Molly exhaled as she weakly sank down against the wall and rested her head against her knees.

"You'll be the death of me, Mr. Holmes." She murmured to herself as she tried to gather her nerves.

Unknown to her, Sherlock was still listening just around the corner. His lips pulled up into an amused smile.

"Interesting." He said to himself. "Very interesting."

* * *

 


	3. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock surprises Molly yet again.

* * *

 

Molly tossed and turned in her bed for hours but sleep never came. Whenever she felt herself drifting off, her eyes shot open with her heart hammering in her chest. She kept remembering how close she had been to Sherlock. Close enough to feel his cool breath on her own lips and distinguish between the mesmerizing colors which swirled together to form a beautiful shade in his iris.

At three in the morning, just as Molly was beginning to drift off, there was a knock on her bedroom door. Molly, who had been seconds away from dozing off, shot up straight in her bed with a jerk.

 _Tell him that it's not an appropriate time to talk and that you will talk tomorrow morning. Go on, say it,_ she thought to herself.

"Molly? May I come in?" Sherlock's muffled voice asked from the other side of the door.

"Of course! Come in." Molly heard herself reply. _Stupid, STUPID!_

Molly hastily pulled her nightgown on as Sherlock walked in. To her surprise, he was clad in a bed sheet from shoulders to toes. Molly couldn't help but giggle at the ridiculous sight in front of her.

"Well Molly, I guess you must have deduced why I am visiting you at this hour of the night?" Sherlock asked her as he shut the door behind her. They were plunged into sudden darkness and Molly could just make out Sherlock's silhouette from the moonlight streaming in through the window.

"No…I…"  _This isn't happening. I am dreaming. I am dreaming. It's Sherlock for god's sake!_

"No, you're not dreaming." Sherlock replied impatiently. Molly almost slapped her forehead with her palm. Had she been thinking out loud?

"Sherlock, I am seeing someone currently." Molly blurted very quickly as she pulled the bed sheets tighter around her narrow frame. Her breath got caught in her throat as she felt Sherlock sit down at the edge of her bed.

"Congratulations." Sherlock mused, his tone not changing one bit.

"I don't think we can-" Molly stopped in between her sentence as a blush spread out over her face. “This is not right.”

"Why not?" Sherlock asked her in his no nonsense, cutting edge tone that left no room for argument. "I am cold, Molly."

"Wait...what?" Molly's eyebrows shot up as she tried to comprehend the meaning of Sherlock's words. What did that have anything to do with this?

"Wake up!" Sherlock seized her by her shoulders and shook her lightly, "Your brain seems to function even slower when you are half asleep."

"I…what…um…" Molly spluttered as she blinked her eyes and tried to steady herself against Sherlock's firm yet gentle grip.

"I am cold, Molly. I need something to wear." Sherlock finally replied with exasperation creeping in his voice.

"Oh." Molly breathed out. She noticed that Sherlock's hands were still at her shoulders. "I thought…never mind." She laughed breathlessly. What had she been thinking?

"No, tell me. What did you think?" Sherlock pushed her back into her bed as she tried to get up.

"N-nothing that you should know." Molly replied, instantly regretting the choice of her words.

"Ah." Sherlock said after a pause.

"So, you need clothes, right." Molly finally got up from her bed and switched on the table lamp as she tightened the belt of her night gown around her waist. Her cheeks were burning and were probably tinged bright right due to her embarrassment. Had she really thought that Sherlock Holmes was visiting her in the middle of the night to…what? Share her bed?

She threw her cupboard open and started ruffling among her clothes. Finally, she took out an oversized pink silk dressing gown which had been a gift to her from Tom.

"Will…this do?" Molly asked Sherlock hesitantly as she held out the gown to him.

"Pink again? Seriously?" He wrinkled his nose in distaste as he eyed the gown in her hands as if it were a venomous python.

"That's all I've got." She snapped at him, surprised at how firm she sounded. "So either take it and let me sleep or-"

"Fine." Sherlock replied in a bored voice as he snatched the dressing gown out of Molly's hand and left the room without another word. Molly waited for him to come back but when he didn't she switched off her lights and just sat there in the darkness. Sleeping was out of question now and after a while; she got up with curiosity burning inside her and decided to take a look outside.

With sneaky steps, she tiptoed to her bedroom door and pulled it open an inch. There was no sign of Sherlock anywhere. She stepped outside and made her way to the bedroom- _her bedroom_ \- where Sherlock was staying for the night. The door was partly open but the lights weren't on. She decided to take a peek inside and pushed the door open, cringing as it made a squeaking noise.

 _I need to oil the hinges first thing tomorrow morning._  She made a mental note to herself as her eyes adjusted to the darkness inside.

"Hydrogen." Sherlock's husky voice reached her ears. She blinked as hey eyes focused on his sprawled out form on the bed. The whole room was a total mess. Bits of papers with Sherlock's elegant scrawl were littered all over the room and there was a pile of books on the table which were definitely not hers, judging by their titles. A microscope resided on the table beside her table lamp and at her feet lay the sheet which Sherlock had carelessly abandoned after changing into her dressing gown. Her….pink dressing gown. She stifled a giggle as light from the hallway fell on Sherlock's asleep form. He looked ridiculous in the pink satin coverage and the gown was a bit short for him, ending at his knees. To her utter surprise, her cat Toby was there on the bed too and was contently sleeping beside Sherlock with his head resting on his thigh.

Molly quickly took out her phone, intent on taking Sherlock's picture but she almost dropped it when she heard Sherlock murmuring.

"Helium…"

"Ex-excuse me?" She stuttered but soon realized that Sherlock wasn't awake. He was talking in his sleep. This caught her interest and she inched forward to hear him more clearly.

"Lithium…Beryllium…" he droned on without a pause, his lips barely moving.

_Oh my god…he is reciting the periodic table in his sleep!_

"Molly."

She stopped dead in her tracks. She was sure that there was no element named "Molly" in the periodic table.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that he was still sleeping and was taking long, deep breaths. She waited for him to say something else but when he didn't, she opened the camera of her phone and took a picture of Sherlock, giggling under her breath as she did. She felt really stupid doing so but she couldn't let a moment like this slide by.

"Goodnight, Sherlock." She whispered as she closed the door behind her. She checked the time and saw that it was almost four a.m. Great.

She decided to make herself a cup of tea since she was awake and had nothing better to do. She drummed her fingers on the kitchen counter while she waited for the water to boil. A sudden vibrating sound made her frown and she turned around and saw that Sherlock's phone was vibrating on the kitchen table. He must have left it there earlier. The caller id displayed John's name and she battled between waking Sherlock and taking the call herself. After all, it could very well be an emergency as John was calling at such an absurd hour.

She peeked inside Sherlock's room once again but after seeing his peaceful expression, she couldn't bring herself to wake him up and decided to take the call herself.

"Sherlock?" John's annoyed voice questioned at the other end, not giving her a chance to speak. "You bloody git! What in the name of Christ have you been talking about to Mary? She is acting all mysterious around me and wouldn't even tell me! I swear to god Sherlock, if you try and cause problems between me and Mary-"

"John, John it's me, Molly! Calm down!" Molly let out a nervous laugh to mask her growing wariness. She had never seen John in such a temper.

"Molly? Oh god…I am so sorry." John's voice lowered down three octaves as he muttered his apologies. "Wait, how do you have Sherlock's phone?"

"Um…he's sleeping. In my bedroom."

"Wait…what? Sherlock is _sleeping?_ " Molly could practically imagine his eyebrows vanishing in his hairline due to the shock. "In  _your_  bedroom?"

"No! I-I didn't mean it like that-" she spluttered as her face grew red. "He is just lounging here for a day or two. I have my own bedroom." She added quickly before John could jump to any other conclusions.

"Oh. Right, yeah." John said and an awkward silence followed his words. "Right so…tell Sherlock I called."

"I will. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." John said and the line went dead. Molly kept the phone back on the table top and frowned. Why was Sherlock talking to Mary? How did he even know her?

After gulping down her tea, she made her way to her bedroom.  _Maybe it would do me some good to catch a couple of hours sleep before my morning shift at Bart's._ She thought morosely as she slipped underneath her covers. She took out her phone and smiled when she saw Sherlock's photo. She had gained enough significance in his life to make him dream about her.

oOoOoOo

"Good Morning, Molly Hooper." She groaned and added a pillow on top of her head as bright sunlight flooded her room. It physically pained her eyes to endure such bright light after getting only a few hours of sleep.

"What are you doing, Sherlock? Oh god…" She threw the pillow away and sat up in her bed "What's the time?"

"A little after nine thirty, I suppose." Sherlock said after glancing at his wrist watch. He was immaculately dressed in a new black suit and Molly had no idea where he got that from as he was carrying no spare clothes with him yesterday.

"Oh my god!" Molly exclaimed as she almost fell out of the bed in her hurry to get out. "I was supposed to be at Bart's an hour ago!" She swore under her breath and it made Sherlock raise his eyebrows.

"Molly-"

"Not now, Sherlock." Molly brushed past him as she headed towards the bathroom to brush her mind was racing ahead of itself, trying to decide many things all at once.  _What will I wear?...No time for breakfast…..will have to ask Mrs. Beaver to water my plants…_

She went into the bathroom and hastily shrugged out of her clothes for a quick shower. She was in the middle of removing her t-shirt when Sherlock barged in without notice. A small scream escaped her mouth as she tried to cover herself. “Sherlock, what the-"

His eyes didn't waver from her face "You have the day off."

"No I…Can you turn around please?" She stammered as she clutched her T-shirt to her chest.

"You have the day off, I ensured it myself." Sherlock said as a small smirk pulled up the corner of his lips. "And, nudity doesn't appall me, Molly. I thought I made it clear last night."

"I…you…" Sherlock turned around and left, leaving behind a very red faced and embarrassed Molly.

After locking the bathroom door behind her, Molly took a quick, cold shower (and checked the locks on the door twice, just in case) and dressed up casually since she had the day off. She went to the living room and kept her eyes fixed on the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Whenever you feel like looking up Molly…"

Molly's eyes shot up and she was met with the most…well unanticipated and impossible sight. Sherlock Holmes was standing in front of her with a bunch of red roses in his hands.

"Roses." Molly whispered, unable to move from her spot.

"Your ability to distinguish between different varieties of flowers is quite extraordinary, I must say." Sherlock said as he held out the roses for Molly.

"Is this for an experiment?" Molly asked him as she accepted the roses from him. Her cheeks were almost the same color as that of the rose petals.

"You could say that." Sherlock smirked, as if he enjoying a private joke. He sniffed the air once as he stated "You smell like vanilla. It's nice."

Without another word, he turned around in one swift, elegant motion and walked into the kitchen. Molly followed him inside and if the Sherlock's previous gesture had left her speechless, then it was in no way of any comparison to what she saw now.

A fully fledged breakfast was laid out on the table. There was cereal, scrambled eggs, bacon, French toast, buttered toast and obviously, tea. _There was even a lit candle on the table._

Molly's jaw went slack as she turned around to stare at Sherlock "You…you made all this?"

"Obviously." Sherlock replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Sherlock Holmes…handing out flowers and making breakfast. Maybe hell had frozen over indeed.

"Are you all right?" Molly laughed nervously as she touched Sherlock's forehead with the back of her hand to check his temperature. Sherlock raised an eyebrow in response and Molly quickly retrieved her hand.

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't have to be necessarily sick to prepare breakfast or perform any other mundane task." Sherlock said as he placed his hand on the small of Molly's back and gently guided her towards the table. She sat down and stared at all the food with wide eyes.

"Breakfast? This is a whole meal!" Molly exclaimed as she started piling up her plate with different things. "I didn't even know that you cooked."

"You're exaggerating now." Sherlock rolled his eyes as he took a seat opposite Molly. She noticed how he had deftly avoided answering her question but she let it pass. She was too bewildered.

"What's all this about?" Molly asked as she took a sip of her tea. Everything on the table was according to her liking. She enquired Sherlock about the same.

"I've known you for years Molly. And it also helps if you have superior observational skills." Sherlock replied casually as he formed a steeple out of his fingers and rested them under his chin.

Molly took a bite of the French toast and almost moaned but caught herself just in time, blushing at how inappropriate it would have sounded.

"Eleven." Sherlock muttered under his breath.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing of importance." He replied instantly, his mouth curving into a smile which vanished within the next second, hence telling Molly that it was a superficial one.

"Aren't you eating?" Molly asked him after swallowing her toast. Sherlock's behavior was really intriguing her today. Not that it didn't on any other day as well.

"No." He replied in a flat tone "Eating early in the morning slows my brain down and anyway-" The fake smile was back on his face "I am saving my appetite for later."

"For what?"

"I am taking you out for dinner this evening." He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Molly choked on her tea and to her embarrassment, some of it streamed down her nose as she coughed and spluttered. She was too taken in by her coughing fit to react to the light touch of a hand on her back. When her coughs finally subsided, she wiped her streaming eyes and wiped under her nose with the sleeve of her t shirt.

"I would have broken that to you later on if I knew that you'd that a reaction like that…" Sherlock mused as he handed Molly a handkerchief. "Interesting material for an experiment-"

"Dinner?" Molly squeaked out. "With you?"

"Problem?" Sherlock asked her as he lifted the tea pot and refilled Molly's tea cup. Oh dear God.

"No…it's just weird. You're acting differently." Molly clenched her left hand into a fist and suddenly, her engagement ring seemed to burn re hot on her ring finger.

"I am trying to be more…human, as John would have said." Sherlock smiled a real small smile which pulled up at the corner of his lips and brought a twinkle to his eyes.

"Why?"

"Dear god, you ask more questions than a kindergartener!" Sherlock got up from the table and dusted his suit "And before you ask me how I know that, I'll just say that I had the misfortune of dealing with a child of six for a case." Sherlock paused and shuddered dramatically "Never. Again."

"I think that kids are quite adorable…"

"Don't try to make conversation, Molly." Sherlock said with a pained look on his face "It's not a field in which you excel. Just eat."

oOoOoOo

Molly finished eating and she fell full to such an extent that she felt like her stomach would burst open any second. Rubbing her abdomen, she made her way out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Sherlock was lounging on the sofa and he muttered something unintelligible when he saw Molly.

"Sorry?"

"I'm _bored!_ " Sherlock burst out suddenly, making Molly jump four feet in the air.

"Oh god…" Molly clutched her chest right above her heart, "Don't do that again, Sherlock."

Sherlock ignored her. "I am bored. I need a case, John."

"Molly." She cleared her throat "It's Molly, not John."

"Oh, did I say John? Don't mind me." Sherlock waved a hand as he slumped back onto the sofa. "I need a case so badly that I can probably commit a murder, if that's what it takes."

"And solve it yourself?" Molly chuckled as she sat down on an armchair beside him.

"I want a case. I _need_ a cigarette!" Sherlock bellowed. “Do you keep any around? Of course you don’t.” Sherlock answered his own question almost instantaneously, looking at Molly like everything was her fault.

"Sherlock!" Molly felt anger rise within her as she glared back at Sherlock. "Don't even think about it."

"You're not my mother." He sneered and kicked over one of the pink cushion off the sofa. He flexed his hand involuntarily and traced his fingers over his skin where a nicotine patch would have been. "So shut up."

"Well, I am not your mother as you quite correctly pointed out but in case you haven't noticed, you are lounging at my house and if you don't want me to kick you out this instant-" Molly stopped herself before she went too far. Her chest was heaving and her face was slightly red, the cause being anger this time.

"Molly-"

"Forget it, Sherlock. You can do as you please." And with that, Molly turned around and went back into her room, slamming the door behind her in the process.

Sherlock just stared after her with an expression of pure bewilderment on his face before he took his phone out and quickly typed a text.

_Got her roses. Made breakfast. Didn't work._

_-SH_

After a while, his phone beeped, signaling an incoming text.

**_Oh dear. What did you do wrong?_ **

**_-Mary_ **

_I don't know. Just stated that I am bored and asked for a cigarette._

_-SH_

**_You might be a genius but u r totally tactless around a girl, Sherlock._ **

**_-Mary_ **

_I'M BORED! I need John!_

_-SH_

**_John is mine._ **

**_BTW, guess what?_ **

**_-Mary_ **

_John shaved off his stupid mustache, I presume?_

_-SH_

**_He totally did! Thanks Sherlock :P_ **

**_Now go apologize to Molly._ **

**_-Mary_ **

_Okay, shut up now. I need to concentrate._

_-SH_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Mary text-conspiring is life.


	4. Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos!

* * *

 

 

Molly Hooper was extremely annoyed. She paced around her room restlessly as she replayed the conversation between her and Sherlock over and over in her head. She had fancied Sherlock since she could remember and she hadn't even remotely considered the possibility that Sherlock would get on her nerves and annoy the hell out of her. Since the beginning, she had tried various tactics to impress Sherlock, may it be from her appearance or by letting him access to all sorts of lab information that normally she wouldn't have had it been someone else.

She had tried and tried but each and every time Sherlock had done nothing but hurt her. Humiliate her. Make her feel stupid and worthless. Each and every time except for that one time when he actually needed her. Needed Molly Hooper's-the woman he never glanced at twice despite her best efforts- help. She had helped him commit a fake suicide for god's sake. She had gone through with his insane and highly dangerous plan, probably putting herself in danger as well and she had watched John suffer for two whole years and had been unable to utter a word. She had watched Lestrade mope around without his favorite Consultant Detective and had remained silent and acted as if she was undergoing despair herself. She had lied, acted, and deceived the people she cared about- all for this infuriating man out there who did not give a damn about her feelings.

Now finally, after two years when she had decided to move on and leave Sherlock behind and start a new life with Tom, Sherlock had barged into her life without a prior notice, ordered her around her own house and acted all high and mighty with her like she didn't mean anything. Like she was nothing. To say that Molly Hooper was pissed was an understatement.

As she paced around the room, she slowly came to a decision. Sure, it won't be pleasant but it would save her a whole lot of trouble and honestly, she was tired of being humiliated at every corner. She took a deep breath and readied herself for what surely was going to be an unpleasant conversation and opened the door.

"Sherlock, I don't think this arrangement is working out-" She stopped dead in her tracks. Sherlock was nowhere to be seen. She checked the bedroom where he was staying but he wasn't there. After checking the kitchen and the bathroom, she finally came to the conclusion that Sherlock was not home. He had left.

Despite the fact that she had been about to kick him out herself, it hurt her that he had just upped and left without any sort of warning. It would have been nice to receive some sort of an apology but no, Sherlock always goes for the drastic measures. It must be a normal thing to just vanish for a person who commits fake suicides.

 _Fine with me. He can do as he pleases._ Molly thought as she blinked back unwelcomed tears. Since she had the rest of the day off –thanks to Sherlock- she decided to just stay at home and spend some quality time with her cat. Probably binge watch some telly and pamper herself with lots of desserts.

She made herself a cup of tea and settled down in front of the telly. Her cat Toby purred and nuzzled against her calf before jumping up and settling down beside her on the sofa. She scratched him absently behind the ear as she surfed the telly for something suitable to watch. She finally settled down for a re- run of Doctor Who and tried to concentrate on the show. Forty minutes in and her mind started wandering again. She glanced at her mobile phone as she wondered whether she should text Sherlock or not. Where was he after all? It would be good to know his location at least. And that he was safe and not conducting some dangerous life experiment.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was scrolling through her contacts and instead of Sherlock, she dialed John's number. After three rings he picked up.

"Molly?" his surprised voice came through the other end.

"Oh, John how did you know it was me?" Molly blinked in confusion.

"Er…Caller ID?"

"Oh, right!" She laughed nervously. "Stupid question."

"Yeah. I mean no it's okay…oh God tell me everything is fine. Has Sherlock blown up your apartment or something?" John only half joked.

"Oh, so he is not with you?" Molly let out a disappointed sigh as she twirled with a strand of her hair.

"No. Why would he be with me? I want absolutely nothing to do with him." John replied a bit scathingly.

"Oh…um…I just thought…" Molly trailed off. "Well Sherlock and I sort of had an argument and he just left after that so I was a bit worried."

"I wouldn't worry. This is Sherlock we are talking about, if you know what I mean." John voice came in through the static. "Can I ask what the argument was about?"

"Oh no it was something really stupid." Molly replied hastily.

"Right. Okay."

"Well, okay then. See you, John."

"Yeah, bye." John hung up, confused. Mary was sitting across him on the sofa with her knees pulled up to her chest and was reading one of the entries of his blog again.

"Huh. Weird."

"Believe me honey; nothing can be weirder than that mustache you just shaved off." Mary replied without looking up as she continued to scroll through his entry.

"Oh shut up." John replied with a roll of eyes. "Molly called me by the way, in case you were interested...right, you clearly aren't." John sighed as he tried to take the tablet from Mary's hand but to no avail.

Mary's ears almost perked up at Molly's name and she sat up straighter. "Oh?"

"Yeah and she said that she and Sherlock had some sort of an argument and he just left." John shook his head as he thought about Sherlock. It had been two whole days since Sherlock showed up unannounced at that god forsaken restaurant and John was nowhere near in talking terms with him. He still couldn't wrap his head around the idea that he had been alive all along.

"I know." Mary mumbled.

"You know?" John asked her, puzzled.

"I mean-" Mary hasted to explain,"From what you have told me about Sherlock, this kind of behavior is normal for him, really."

"Yeah. Poor Molly. I think she still fancies him a lot." John shrugged, running his fingers over the smooth skin where a mustache once resided.

Mary smirked to herself as she took out her phone and texted Sherlock. Things were going to change very soon.

oOoOoOo

Molly's telly binge-watching was not going as well as she had expected it to go. She wasn't able to focus on the show and the house seemed strangely empty without the lean, tall figure with curly black hair and a razor sharp mind sulking around. It also worried her that he was not with John. Where could he have possibly gone? To Lestrade? Mrs. Hudson? Where?

She checked the clock as saw that it was one p.m. The day was going by abnormally slow.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and Molly hopped up, breaking her china tea cup in her excitement. She rushed to the door and flung it open but was disappointed to see that it wasn't Sherlock. In fact, it was a delivery guy wearing a lop sided red mets cap.

"Yes?" She asked him, wondering if he had the wrong address.

"Miss Hooper?" He asked her in a thick Scottish accent.

"That would be me." She said, more confused than ever.

"Delivery for you from Mister Sherlock 'olmes."

Molly's heart paced up at the mere mention of Sherlock's name. The delivery guy handed her a long rectangular box and left. She shut the door behind her with her foot as she carried the box to the kitchen table and ripped the wrapping apart in her excitement. As she lifted the cover, her mouth dropped open.

Inside the box was a beautiful black halter neck dress. She held it up and immediately fell in love with it. Inside was a note bearing Sherlock's immaculate script. It read:

_Wear it for our date tonight. 6 p.m sharp._

Only one word registered in Molly's mind as she zeroed down to it. Wear it for our date tonight. Our date tonight. Our date.  _Date_.

"What?" She whispered to herself. Sure they had made plans for dinner before their argument but calling it a  _date?_  Molly's heart was wildly thudding in her chest and she buried her face into the fine cloth of the black dress. What was she supposed to do? She was engaged to Tom for heaven's sake!

 _A small date wouldn't hurt. It's not like Tom has to know._  A small, excited voice said in her head.

 _No! That's just…wrong,_ She tried to reason with herself. 

 _It's Sherlock for god's sake. It's not like anything is going to happen._ The voice whispered.

_Exactly. It's Sherlock._

After an hour of contemplation and nervous pacing around, she finally made up her mind. She would go.

oOoOoOo

_Oh. My. God._

This is the first thing Molly thought as she looked at herself in the mirror. The dress clung to her body and accentuated her curves in such enticing ways that she never thought was possible. The halter neck dipped low and showed a bit of cleavage as well. The dress ended up a few inches above her knees and left half of her back bare. It fit her like it was tailored precisely for her.

She felt nervous about wearing it to their…um…date. She cringed even while thinking about it. The dress was a bit provocative and she felt downright nervous in wearing it in front of Sherlock. But then again, Sherlock was the one who had sent it for her and he was very clear that he wanted her to wear it.

"Okay. Nothing to be afraid of. It's just two people going out to have some dinner." Molly thought as she adjusted her newly curled hair over her shoulder. She had been apprehensive about using too much makeup lest it put Sherlock off…the same man she had been pissed at just a few hours ago. Finally she had gone with a natural look with just a hint of blush and a tint of rose for her lips.

She still remembered his comment from a few years back…

" _Ah, Molly, coffee, thank you. What happened to the lipstick?"_

" _It wasn't working for me." She had replied a bit self consciously._

" _Really?" Sherlock drawled. " I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now." He had said, making her feel dejected probably without meaning to._

" _...Okay." was all she had been able to say as she broke eye contact._

She shook her head as she saw herself in the mirror. Really saw herself. Gone was the meek, hesitant Molly Hooper who acted on Sherlock's whims and cried herself to sleep whenever Sherlock unknowingly humiliated her. Christmas at Sherlock's had been one of the most humiliating experiences of her life and she still cringed when she remembered it. But at the same time, it was the same night when Sherlock had kissed her cheek for the first time as an apology. The memory had been forever engraved in her mind.

She smiled at her own reflection and it smiled back at her. Today she would march with her head held high.

oOoOoOo

Just when Molly was deciding whether or not to let a hint of cleavage show, there was a sharp knock on the door. With flustered hands, she hefted the neckline of her dress up and checked the clock. It was six o' clock sharp. Molly adjusted her dress one last time and made her way over to the door, her high heels clicking against the floor. Anticipation was bubbling in her stomach and was making her feel queasy. With a deep breath, she schooled her features into a smile and flung the door open. Once again, she was disappointed to see that it wasn't Sherlock. It was a scruffy looking guy wearing a lopsided cap.

"Uh…" He read her name off a sheet of paper "Molly Hooper?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Holmes sent me to escort you, ma'am. I will be your cabbie tonight."

"Oh." Molly replied "Um…okay uh let me just get my purse." She rushed to her room and grabbed her black purse and put on a warm black coat on top of her dress which fell past her knees. After a deep breath, Molly locked the door of her house behind her and stepped into the black cab. Without a word, the cabbie started driving.

Molly fidgeted nervously in the back seat as she peered out into the dark streets which were zooming past her. It was barely 6:15 and it was already pitch dark as days were becoming short due to winter. After a while, the silence in the cab became ominous and she tried to start a conversation with the cabbie.

"So." Her voice sounded extremely high pitched and squeaky so she cleared her throat before continuing. "So, where are we going?"

"I am not allowed to say, ma'am." The driver glanced at her through the rear view mirror and his gaze made her feel a bit uncomfortable.

"Oh. Okay." She mumbled. Why was Sherlock being so mysterious?

"You know Sherlock?" Molly asked the cab driver in an attempt to get more information.

"Oh yes." The cabbie smiled slightly "He helped me out of a tight spot once, I owe him."

Molly laughed nervously "One would think he'd be afraid of cabbies by now."

She instantly regretted saying it as she glanced at the driver's confused and slightly offended expression through the front mirror. "And I'll shut up now."

The rest of the car ride took place in complete silence. Molly gave up on finding out where they were going and fidgeted with her slightly out of date flip phone. She glanced down at her hand and her engagement ring immediately caught her eye. It was shining dimly due to the light cast by the streetlights and just thinking about Tom made the ring feel like it weighed 100 pounds on her hand. She sighed in frustration as she debated with herself about calling Tom and leaving him a message because all of a sudden, she was feeling extremely guilty.

_I shouldn't feel like this. It's not like I am cheating on Tom or anything…it's just a friendly dinner with a …um…_

She didn't know what to call Sherlock. Colleague? Acquaintance? Friend?

Somehow, none of these terms fit Sherlock. He seemed above all these social tags although the term "friend" was as close as it could get.

She steeled herself as she dialed Tom's number from memory and bit her lower lip as the phone started ringing.

_Ring Ring Ring_

When she was about to give up and disconnect, Tom picked up the phone.

"Hi Honey. Sorry about that day, I was a bit pissed and things got out of hand." His voice came in through the other end. He sounded cheerful enough and Molly let out a sigh of relief.

"It's quite alright, Tom. It was my fault really…"

"Forget all that, what are you doing now?" He sounded a bit distant and the muffled voice of television drowned out the rest of his words. He was probably watching the cricket world cup.

"I am going out for dinner with um…a friend?" It came out sounding more like a question than a statement.

"That's nice honey." Molly wasn't even sure if Tom was listening because from his reply he sounded a bit distracted. "Well, have fun and I'll catch you later yeah?"

"Oh…okay. Bye." Tom hung up even before the last word was out of her mouth. She started at the phone in disbelief as anger bubbled in the pit of her stomach. Her fiancé hadn't even bothered to ask where she was going or with whom she was having dinner. Before she couldn't ponder over it in excess and spoil her mood, the cab stopped.

"There you go, miss." The cabbie said as Molly got out of the cab and looked around. She sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes widened as she appraised the very familiar surroundings.

"How much?" She rustled into the depths of her purse for change.

"No charge. It's all on Mr. Holmes." And with that, the cabbie drove off into the night. Molly felt as if fiery dragons were prancing around in her stomach as she turned around to face her destination. She was standing outside none other than the very familiar 221-B, Baker Street.

Unknown to Molly, someone was watching her through the slightly parted curtains. He smirked slightly as he took in Molly's nervous expression and took out his cell phone to type a quick text.

_She's here.-SH_

His phone beeped almost immediately and he rolled his eyes.

_Show her what you got, Sherl. –Mary_

Sherlock narrowed his eyes as he slid the phone back into his pocket. He detested nicknames but he refrained himself from saying anything. He slid down gracefully into his armchair and waited for Molly to come up.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo *nervous laugh* this chapter didn't have much of Sherlock but believe me, the next chapter will more than make up for it ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback would be much appreciated.


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